


Upper Hand

by Maldoror_Chant



Category: One Piece
Genre: Betrayal, M/M, Pigeons, Timeline before the Water 7 arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maldoror_Chant/pseuds/Maldoror_Chant
Summary: After working with Lulu and Tilestone, Paulie was used to tough co-workers and eccentric characters. So what it was that annoyed Paulie so much about the new guy, Lucci, was a bit of a mystery, but it wasn't two weeks before whatever it was came to a head in the manner these things usually do.





	Upper Hand

Paulie had been apprenticed alongside Tilestone and Lulu, he'd risen to the rank of foreman with those two, so there really wasn't anything left in the way of personal eccentricities that should be able to bug him. For instance, when that new kid with the long square honker introduced himself as Kaku, and informed Paulie in a manner reminiscent of the foreman's long-dead grandpa that here was Galley-la's latest hire, Paulie didn't even blink. "Izzat so? Sure, welcome aboard, kid. Grab that piece of lumber and a few nails and I'll show you where to start."

So what it was that annoyed Paulie so much about the other new guy, Lucci, was a bit of a mystery, but it wasn't two weeks before whatever it was came to a head in the manner these things usually do. 

Paulie could swear that half of Galley-la had shown up in the bar to ring his table, place bets and shout bawdy encouragements. Paulie finished his shot, the last in a long line, before shedding his jacket and planting his right elbow down on the beer-stained wood. Lucci _still_ had nothing to say, just mirrored the gesture. Their hands pressed together palm against palm. Fingers gripped. 

Kaku had been picked as referee in virtue of being the youngest and undoubtedly most honest shipwright present, as well as too new to have any bias towards either man. The young carpenter pushed back his cap, expression all solemn but with something like a twinkle in his eyes, and placed his hand on theirs. 

"Ready? Three, two, one - go!"

The wooden table creaked in loud complaint as soon as Kaku removed his hand. Paulie's stool groaned in harmony as he shifted his weight and threw himself into the match. Biceps which could wield an iron mallet all day long, weave a ton of cordage into rigging and haul up a mizzenmast for afters, strained and knotted like cordwood. Somehow he wasn't surprised that the pressure opposing him was like a wall, only more stubborn. He'd known from the instant he'd laid eyes on Lucci that there was a lot more to this guy than the stern demeanour and the ludicrous pigeon made him out to be.

Didn't matter, though, because when it came to stubborn, this guy had nothing on Paulie.

Slowly Paulie bore down against the hand clasping his, tilting the balance in his favour. He could feel the muscles in his neck stand out, his cigar grind between his teeth, but he was going to win this, oh he was going to win this for sure. Then he made the mistake of glancing up.

Lucci was watching him as if he'd been waiting all along for the foreman to look his way. Tension touched arms that just didn't look to be that strong, a faint imprint of muscles slinking beneath the skin like cats evading a caress, but Lucci wasn't showing any sign of effort beyond that, the _bastard_. 

His eyes were the color of the strong black coffee Paulie loaded with sugar and a little rum for those mornings after an intense night. They pinned Paulie's gaze effortlessly. Paulie swallowed, but the large ornery streak inside him goaded him to pile on more pressure against Lucci's arm, pushing to get it past the thirty degree angle he'd achieved. The table gave an ominous crack.

Lucci looked down as if he'd only just noticed they were wrestling, and that dark gaze raked Paulie from forearm to fingertips. His expression did not change, but the pigeon on his shoulder suddenly rolled a few R's like a rusty purr and said, "Nice hands."

 _SLAM_.

"Ah, Lucci-san is the winner," said Kaku, needlessly. 

Paulie let fly a string of invectives as he gripped his shoulder. The way he'd stiffened just as that son of a bitch hauled Paulie's hand up and over like that, he was lucky it wasn't dislocated.

Lucci met his indignant glower as if he were a hundred nautical miles away from this match, this bar and the din of hoots and shouts and laughter around them. In the few weeks he'd worked at Galley-la, Lucci had shown everyone that same neutral expression, but that he didn't have anything for Paulie even now, not a word, not a smile or a gloat or- or _anything_ -...Paulie was irrationally on the edge of taking that personally. 

The pigeon bobbed its head and piped: "You're easily distracted, aren’t you."

Paulie nodded to himself and spat out his cigar. 

He was normally a good loser; he had enough practice at cards. But not this time. Lucci was going down. Paulie was going to win one over this bastard, whether it was another round of arm wrestling, a drinking contest, an out-and-out fucking fight or in- in other situations that did _not_ involve a bed, because Paulie might swing towards guys but he'd have nothing to do with pigeon fancying freaks, thank you very much. But in any other situation, damn it, Paulie was not going to lose again.

What evolved in the shipyard, in the streets, in bars and tussles and over cards and eventually in bed despite Paulie's best intentions, was a long series of friendly one-uppances and ill-defined ties with no clear winner, but in Paulie's estimate Lucci's score started at minus one hundred because of the bloody pigeon, so Paulie clearly had the upper hand.

Though in the end, it turned out he was wrong about that. He'd never even been in the game.


End file.
